The Winter Wind
by LCAAS
Summary: "And God took a handful of blizzard wind, blew on it, and created the Horse" - Elyne Mitchell, paraphrasing an old Bedouin legend


_**AN: Dear Jack, get AWAY from the Prussian crossover bunny.**_

**Title: ****The Winter Wind****  
Author:** bookworm  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** none  
**Disclaimer:** all characters borrowed without permission and will be returned unharmed when done  
**Summary: **_**"For God took a handful of blizzard wind, blew on it, and created the horse" ~Elyne Mitchell paraphrasing from an old Bedouin legend**_

* * *

Here in the High Country, the Bushmen still tell stories about a Ghost Horse. He comes in the blizzard snows and follows the wind, the magnificent Silver Stallion, King of the wild brumbies. The Men call him Silver, but the creatures of the bush know him as Thowra, the Wind. If you listen very closely, you might still hear his wild call, echoing through the storms. But no Man knows where the son of Bel Bel roams.

No _Man_, 'tis true. But there are many things in this world besides the sons and daughters of men.

Three hundred years or so ago, the Moon brought a boy back from the depths of a lake, and made him Winter. He named him Jack Frost, and he was meant to bring the joy and laughter back to a season of dread, and so Jack did. His first friend was the Wind, and Jack learnt to fly and dance with his faceless companion, travelling the whole world to spread his brand of winter magic. Because he could not speak to anyone else, he talked to the Wind, and learnt to hear its murmuring whispers, and heed its whistling songs. And the Wind goes where it wills, and carries many tales, if you have ears to listen.

Up here in the Snowy Mountains the winters often come early, and the stockmen used to say "thunder in winter means snow". The thunder and the blizzard came yesterday, but today the air is crisp and clear, and high on the Ramshead ranges the snow has been packed hard by the driving wind. Today there is a cream-and-silver stallion galloping wild and free across the white-dressed ranges, alight with the joy of being alive. Today, Thowra bucks and rears and trumpets his joy to the mountains, silver mane and tail flying like foam on a waterfall. This is winter, his time, when the Men are gone from the mountains and he can gallop over the hills without fear, silver horse on white snow. Lifting his proud head he calls aloud to this white world where he is King, and then sets off again, neat hooves almost dancing on the packed snow. Winter is here, and this is his kingdom (_This is his countr_y, the wind sings,_ in spirit or flesh. It is his country forever_). There are many tales told of Thowra, among the men and horses alike – men talk of a ghost horse seen drinking at the head of the Crackenback river, or appearing and disappearing in the willy-willies of winter; and the mountain brumbies tell stories of the Silver Whirlwind, who comes in the winter like the very storm and vanishes in the summer, but only the Wind and the bush creatures knows where he goes. Only the Wind, and those who listen to it.

High above Lake Cootapatamba where the Eagles drink, there is a boy made of ice and snow, dancing in the Wind. Yesterday he brought the blizzards and driving winds, but today the sun shines brightly on the snow below – today is a day for playing, and Jack does love to play. The clear skies and freezing winds let him drop the temperatures enough to form tiny ice crystals that sparkle in the air – the famous diamond dust, although there is no one around to see it. No one, except the silver brumby stallion, galloping and rearing in the snow below. A spume of snow flies behind him like a cloud as he dances, the sun reflecting off the crystals in the air like a halo around him. Dropping down, Jack salutes him, Winter to the Whirlwind, and Thowra rises in greeting to the Winter Prince. With a laugh, Jack takes off again, glad to have brought joy to a heart, and as a whirlwind of snow hides the Silver Brumby from sight, the white hawk - the black-shouldered kite whose carving flight makes the air-twisted spells of the dance of life - breaks free of the spiralling snow, and it's call follows Jack through the air with gladness and thanks.

_"For love is the kelson of creation"_

* * *

AN:

1. So all these places mentioned are real! Elyne Mitchell loved the High Country LOTS and it showed in all her stories. See here . blaze. net. au / ~ sasami / brumby /sb _ map. for a map. Of course, most of this area is now ski-fields and all touristy, but plenty is still national park.

2. a "willy-willy" is an old bush term for the spiralling twist of wind going upwards - a small whirlwind, in fact, what some might call a "dust devil"

3. diamond dust is a very rare phenomenon of a ground level cloud of ice crystals. It happens under clear skies & needs below freezing temperatures. I have no clue if it happens in Australia, but well. _**Jack**_. And yes, they are associated with optical phenomena like halos, because the ice crystals form as simple hexagonal shapes which behave like prisms


End file.
